And if Tomorrow Never Comes
by midwifeonboard
Summary: We only saw the snuggle. What might have happened. Originally published in 2009


It started in anger, as it sometimes can. Harsh words: You're quitting. You promised me you wouldn't give up. You're being a coward. I lashed back telling him that he couldn't possibly understand, knowing of course, that he could. I felt crazy. My heart was pounding as though I had received a shot of adrenaline rather than dumping the rest of my pills.

I had just lit the last candle when he stumbled through the hatch already drunk. Liquor seems to be the one thing that is always plentiful in the fleet, even when food is not, and he can be vicious when the alcohol is flowing. But when I stopped and looked, there was something in his face, and I knew he would be kind. He didn't have to say anything. All he had to do was look at me in that way that makes me understand I am the most important thing in his world and all I had to do was reach out to him.

I placed my hand on his arm and he covered it with his own. We stood there, silent for a brief moment before I walked into his arms. The solid feel of his chest dissipated my mania. My cheek against the scratchy wool of his uniform felt over-sensitized and alive. Had we waited too long? I brushed my cheek back and forth for the shortest moment before turning up my face to his. I needed to kiss him. My urgency came from the too-frightened part of my soul, but as our lips met, again his touch brought me back to the here and now. I was forceful, but he softened the kiss, pulling back, nipping first at my lower lip and then the upper. I cocked my head and gave him what I'm sure was a puzzled look, but he just smiled and kissed me again. Slowly, softly, only lips, a sensual promise of what was to come. When he pulled back this time, his hands grazed my cheeks and up to my ears. He slid his fingers under the edge of my wig and deftly removed it from my head. I was fully clothed, yet had never felt more naked.

He was almost reverent with the wig, placing it gently on the table before taking my hand and leading me to the alcove in his quarters that served as his bedroom. We had been here many times before, but his sense of purpose as we walked was suddenly unnerving. He turned back to face me and I felt the jolt of attraction hit me in the solar plexus, then radiate to my toes. He undressed me without saying a word and it wasn't until I was fully naked that he smiled again and then divested himself of his own clothing in what must have been record time.

We stood there for endless moments just looking at each other, studying the planes of the opposite anatomy. Neither one of us was a saint and I presume he had seen at least as many naked women as I had seen naked men. We were two weary bodies and souls and our fascination with the other was in the puzzling out what had changed, not in the novelty. All I wanted to do was wrap myself around him and become a part of him.

He took me into his arms and kissed me. This time it was no chaste kiss, but the wet, deep, hungry kisses of lovers too long apart. Each stroke of his tongue was met by one of my own. I grasped his back and shoulders with my hands while his fingers lightly trailed over my bald head and down the back of my neck before one finally came to rest at the small of my back, the other between my shoulder blades. I had forgotten how wonderful the simple act of mindful kissing could be. It felt as though we had nothing left to do for the rest of time but stand here and kiss one another. However, when I slipped my hands around to his chest and brushed his nipples with my fingers he reacted swiftly. Before I knew what had happened, he had one arm around my back and another beneath my knees and was placing me onto the narrow bed.

When I was carefully laid out, he stared. Again. I laughed out loud, admonishing him not to leave me cold. "Never," he said before carefully climbing into the bed around me so that his back was to the wall. He propped his head up against a hand and shook his head. "You're sure." It wasn't a question, and they were the last words either of us spoke for quite some time.

This time when he leaned in to kiss me, I was ready to be a full participant. Our legs entwined as our lips grazed and nipped and suckled. Kissing was an art, and it was one at which I had always excelled. So had he. And when we collaborated, there was magic. I could feel his kiss everywhere even though his hands had not begun to wander.

I was lost in the sensation of the kiss, in the press of our limbs. There was no hurry, and the friction of our bodies was delicious. We did not require the kind of skillful touching that one expects when making love. When our lips parted this time, he smiled. I leaned my head towards his, wanting more kisses. They were more potent than Chamalla. He held back just slightly, "Let's try something." He pulled me so his torso was wrapped around my back. I could feel his erection pressed against my bottom, and he trailed his hand up my thigh, skipping over to my belly, tracing a circle around my navel, and up between my breasts and back down while planting wet kisses on my neck and shoulders.

"You can touch them," I whispered. I felt him freeze, and I knew he was afraid of hurting me, but I wanted his touch. I knew he would be gentle, and it had been so long since I had allowed my breasts to be a source of pleasure rather than illness. I craved the contact and snuggled my back closer, melting into him. I held his hand and moved it to my breast caressing lightly, showing him what felt good. His gentle strokes, along with the kisses, brought my breath apace, and when our hips began moving together, I closed my eyes to savor the glory of it all.

I wanted to turn to kiss him, but I couldn't maneuver. I was too caught up in the anticipation. I was high and nearly crazed with this unfamiliar feeling of love combined with sheer lust. When he slid into me from behind, it was unlike any other sexual joining I had ever experienced. I felt complete. He buried his face in my neck as we moved together, slowly at first, the pace gradually moving forward, but never too fast: we had all the time in the universe. The slow friction caused my blood to rush everywhere. I was gasping for breath and so was he. I didn't want it to ever end, and yet I could barely hold on for the climax when it hit. It was like none other I had ever experienced, though I thought I had always been well-satisfied.

We lay there, unmoving, his kisses against my back, the tyllium ship long forgotten, when the phone rang. Leave it to Tigh to ring at such an inopportune moment, imposing a conversation that could have waited. I gently tugged the phone from Bill's hand and replaced it in the cradle, bringing his attention back to us, and as we drifted off to sleep I felt secure with his robust body wrapped around my frail one. I had the brief thought that tomorrow may never come, but in that moment, I can't say that I cared.


End file.
